Ruin Your Happiness (I'm the only one for ya)
by Polly Little
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki was worried he wouldn't be good enough his soulmate. Victor Nikifirov was worried he wouldn't find his soulmate in the first place. Victuuri soulmate au in which soulmates have their other half's first word on their wrist.


_Ruin Your Happiness (I'm the only one for ya)_

For most people, Soulmate Theory was a comfort, a reassuring confirmation of unconditional love as long as they were lucky enough to find it. At that point, everything would come together for them to find happiness, the entire universe revolving around them for a brief moment of perfection.

Yuuri Katsuki found that absolutely terrifying. He knew deep within his bones that his soulmate would be disappointed in him, be disgusted as soon as they saw him, and he was certain that he would be the first person in recorded history to repel unconditional love. It was all very irrational, but compared to a world where the first word of a person's one true love appeared on the inside of their dominant wrist, the thought of being a disappointment made a lot more sense to Yuuri. He'd already disappointed himself.

Besides, how was he supposed to find someone on the basis of their first word being _helicopter?_ Far better to accept defeat now, than to humiliate himself later. His soulmate was better off without him, anyway.

Victor Nikiforov, on the other hand, _adored_ Soulmate Theory. Call him a hopeless romantic (which admittedly, he was), but the idea of there being someone out there who would love him regardless of his flaws – someone chosen by the universe itself to be his lover or best friend – was an idea that kept him looking ahead even on his worst days. He liked to imagine, sometimes, that the word inked into his wrist in handwriting that grew more elegant every day was a link to the other person, and if he clasped his right hand tight over his wrist, he could send them a piece of his happiness.

Victor thought he was lucky to have a soulmate. He'd even been lucky enough to have not just a word, but a name. _Yuuri_. It caught his attention just as well as his own, and he was convinced that for every Yuuri he found, he was one step closer to finding the Yuuri written into his wrist. They could be his soulmate, could be a sibling or friend of his soulmate, but either way, they were his only lead – so of course, he was as delighted as he was nervous to be introduced to Yuri Pilsetskey by an uncomfortably awkward looking Yakov after practice.

"Hello, Yuri," he bubbled. "I'm Victor, and-"

"I know who you are." Yuri cut him off with a scowl and a jab to the chest. "What I want to know is why you're so eager to meet me."

Victor's grin grew a little more strained as he considered the best way to phrase it. Yuri's scowl became more pronounced. Behind them, Yakov knocked over someone's skate bag as he attempted to sidle away.

"I… I believe you may know my soulmate, Yuri," he said quickly.

"You what?" Understandably, Yuri looked confused.

"I believe-"

"No, I heard you the first time. How do you know?" A slight edge of panic crept into his voice. "Yakov left me alone with a stalker."

"No!" Victor reached towards him, then thought better and pulled his own sleeve back, revealing the elegantly written name. "My first word was helicopter, and I thought you'd know if someone's was your name."

Yuri's eyes widened, and he pulled back his own sleeve with none of Victor's old-fashioned hesitancy, revealing the word inked in blocky yet careful letters that was decidedly not _helicopter_.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know anyone who could fit. But at least it isn't " _mummy_ "." Yuri's face screwed up in disgust. "Were their parents even thinking about planning ahead?"

"Are you sure?"

"What, you don't think I'd remember that kind of attention?" Yuri bit his lip, readjusting his skate bag over his shoulder as he turned to go. "I will let you know if I hear anything, but…"

And with a shrug, he was gone.

"And you!" Victor called after him, before sitting down with a sigh, skates still only half unlaced and beginning to drip. He supposed it didn't change anything. His soulmate was still his soulmate, he would just… have to meet them a little later, that's all. It didn't mean he was one of those unlucky few destined to never meet their soulmate, right?

Right?

))))))()((((((

Growing up around the fall of the USSR, Victor had been taught two conflicting attitudes to Soulmate Theory. In an effort to separate church and state, the Soviet government had put substantial effort into ensuring the Soulmarks were seen as something private, intimate – not to be shown in public. As a result, there had been a huge increase in marriages between non-Soulmate couples – such as Yakov and Lilia, or Victor's own parents – and, more importantly, Victor had no idea whatsoever on how to actually find his soulmate.

His parents had tried their best, being just as enthusiastic in everything as Victor was. They had used the most unusual language possible around him, hoping his first word would be "ecology" or "pterodactyl". It had meant that he grew up in a household of purple prose, and they had had to reteach him Russian afterwards, but his first word had been helicopter. They had been proud, and still called fish fingers helicopters to celebrate.

But even after all of that, he didn't know whether to keep it secret and hope for a chance meeting, to rifle desperately through the internet, to mention it when he introduced himself, or to put up a billboard next to Moscow airport.

So it was both a blessing and a curse that he had no control over the situation when he finally did meet his soulmate.

He was pining quietly in the corner with a glass of champagne, with a manner that he considered dignified but Mila informed him was closer to brooding (or perhaps moping), when he noticed a doleful looking Japanese skater drinking like it was going out of style. Victor would admit that the man was reasonably attractive – especially with the way his fingers keep caressing the stem of the champagne glass and making Victor shiver – but Victor is loyal to his soulmate, however much this man makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up with his dark eyed smirk.

Yuri, who he's struck up a sort of dysfunctional mentorship with over the past few years, notices his staring. He's jealous of the attention, as usual, and stalks over to the man's corner. Victor doesn't know what he says – he's nowhere near sober enough to attempt English and all of its dropped consonants – but a moment later he's being ordered to help move the tables back and there's music playing, and wow, if Victor thought the man was attractive before, the gyrating hips and confident concentration before him is almost too much.

He wins the dance off, and Victor isn't surprised at all. His name is Yuuri – and doesn't that hit Victor with a bittersweet tang – and he shakes Yuri's hand with a shy grace that's as endearing as his smile. Victor can't stop thinking about him. Maybe he's a horrible person for acting this way when he's destined for someone else, maybe he's just projecting, but it's like Yuuri is a rain cloud in the desert, and Victor can't help but follow him.

"Victor," Yuri hisses.

"Huh?" He's not really paying attention, but who could blame him? Other Yuuri – and he's learnt not to get his hopes up by now, because Russia is full of Yuris and who's to say Japan is any different? – has been persuaded into a pole dancing competition by Chris, and it is possibly the greatest sight he's ever seen.

"Victor," Yuri's voice, finally cuts through to him, sharper than ever with annoyance.

"What is it?"

"I think that's your soulmate."

The world stops for a second, and Victor has to fight the champagne and his dizzy heart to stay standing. "What?"

"His bracelet – you know, the ones they wear in Japan to cover their Soulmarks? Well, it slipped when we shook hands. How many people were weird enough to choose helicopter for a first word?" The words are cutting, but the tone is oddly gentle for the moody teenager Victor knows so well, encouraging even.

"Right," he says, heart pounding in his ears. "Excuse me."

He hears Yuri respond, but it's like he's underwater. The next few minutes pass in a blur, and a million hopes and fears and questions sweep through his mind with all the force of a tsunami. How should he introduce himself? What if he forgets his name? What if Yuuri wasn't his soulmate? _What if Yuuri was his soulmate, but didn't like him?_

The light shimmers as he crosses the room to where Yuuri stands, and Victor is terrified. After what feels like an eternity, he's standing in front of the man he's been looking for his entire life, mouth fry and palms sweating.

With what he hopes is a friendly smile, and not a serial killer stare, he puts his hand out and says, "Hello. I'm Victor Nikiforov. And I suspect that you might be my soulmate."

 **A/n: WritTWr for Caesar's Palace shipping week. There will probably be a companion fic for Yuuri's POV and/or Yuri's soulmate, so keep an eye out! (c:**


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